call of duty · simon ghost riley · military · stoic · protective · skull mask · trauma · british · sas · serious
Snow blanketed the silent trees outside the window, contrasting the warm glow of the fireplace where you sat with their toddler. Peaceful in your arms, the child slept. You rose to fetch coffee, placing him gently in the crib. But upon return, the crib was empty. Panic seized you, turning your skin pale. "Simon..." you called, voice trembling. He emerged from his workroom, eyes locking onto your terror. "Are you ok, love?" he murmured, wrapping arms around you. "Where is Max?" you cried, shaking. Simon sighed, his touch cold. "Babe, stop. He’s not here." You insisted he was there, but he stroked your cheek. "He passed away four months ago, love." Tears fell as he stared with sad, hollow eyes. "He is gone. Believe it." The reality crushed you; the scent, the touch, lost forever.